With Umbridge "imprisoned," the Defence Against the Dark Arts class at Hogwarts had set a new record: no professor had ever left their post after teaching for only three days. It was a true legend of the fastest academic career in history.
Because of this lightning-fast dismissal, it was proving difficult to find a replacement for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position within a week.
According to the Educational Decree No. 26, which Fudge had issued back in August, if Hogwarts couldn't find a new professor, the Ministry of Magic would send a professional instructor to fill the vacancy.
Fudge had originally planned to send another "Senior Undersecretary," but after the highly suspicious case of Umbridge, no one at the Ministry was willing to get tangled up in that mess.
At breakfast on Friday, Hermione was reading the new edition of the paper, hoping to find out what the Ministry was up to. Ron was quiet, lost in thought. Meanwhile, Harry and Cohen were discussing finding someone they knew to apply for the teaching job at Hogwarts.
"What if I get Sirius to do it?" Harry said with a hopeful look. "He could teach for a year—that way he won't run into the curse on that position, and I could watch him and Snape go at it."
"So your godfather is just a consumable for fighting Snape, is that it?" Cohen said, rubbing his face. "Dumbledore probably wouldn't agree. For one, Sirius is busy with the Order of the Phoenix. For another, if he and Snape were in the same school, we wouldn't be able to learn anything in Potions class, either, let alone Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"I feel like that's not much different from now," Harry sighed. "I've never felt like I've learned anything in Potions class. I have, however, learned plenty of Snape's sarcastic insults."
"That's going to be more useful than Potions later on," Cohen said, seeing the truth of it. "You'll have a daily need for sarcastic insults for people you can't stand, but you won't have a daily need to brew potions."
"The Dementor prison break is still the front-page story, and it's accompanied by accusations of the Ministry fabricating lies," Hermione said to them after finishing the paper. "That's because a lot of people are saying they saw a large group of Dementors in Northumberland last month. Why would they go there?"
"Probably because I was born there..." Cohen said casually. "They miss me."
"That actually sounds pretty reasonable," Harry chuckled. "If they could talk to me, I wouldn't be so afraid of them..."
"You're only less afraid of Dementors because of Cohen," Hermione said bluntly. "But the residents of Northumberland don't know Cohen—and they might get attacked by Dementors all the time. It's incredible that the Ministry truly hasn't taken any safety measures..."
"Why have the newspapers changed their tune? Why aren't they defending the Ministry anymore?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raised. "I thought all they knew was how to smear us and praise the Ministry."
"They haven't changed; they're just scared of dying," Hermione said, shaking her head. "You-Know-Who hasn't shown up, so they naturally side with whoever is the loudest. But those Dementors are a very real threat to their safety."
"What's wrong, Ron? You look like you haven't been feeling well all morning..." Harry suddenly noticed that Ron, who had barely eaten, looked full. "And you haven't really said anything..."
"Huh, me?" Ron snapped out of his daze. "You and Cohen still have detention today, don't you—"
"Did you lose your memory?" Harry asked in surprise. "Umbridge got locked up, so how could we still have detention?"
"Oh, right, right..." Ron quickly corrected himself. "I got confused—I probably didn't sleep well last night—do you two want to go practice spells with Cohen's Chimera in the evening?"
"I have Quidditch tryouts to watch, remember?" Harry said. "Angelina wants everyone on the team to be there..."
"Actually, if you wanted to join, no one would object," Cohen said earnestly. "You were a pretty good player over the summer, after all—"
"Don't lie—I didn't—" Ron said, flustered.
"But how did you buy a broom?" Hermione asked, surprised. "I mean—you couldn't possibly be riding one of the old school brooms..."
"..." Ron looked very awkward.
"What's the big deal? I can buy you one if you want to play..." Harry looked ecstatic—he really hoped Ron would join the team.
"No—all right... don't laugh at me, though... I made a deal with Fred and George..." Ron said with great difficulty.
"You sold your dignity?" Cohen's eyes widened.
"No way!" Ron immediately said. "I just... agreed to be a test subject for them for three months..."
"Isn't that still selling your dignity? It's just the dignity of your soul," Cohen sighed. "Honestly, you could take two bottles of Butterbeer and exchange them for some hair from the unicorn in my trunk and still be able to afford one..."
"What?" Ron asked in disbelief. "Are you kidding me—"
"You can trade Butterbeer for anything from the unicorns. They could even help you steal a baby dragon from the next-door dragon enclosure," Cohen said with a nod. "Some things you just can't do by yourself..."
"Sigh..." Ron said, and let out a long breath.
Aside from Ron secretly joining the Quidditch tryouts, Friday went on as usual.
The professors all seemed delighted about Umbridge's departure. Professor Flitwick didn't give them any homework, saying he wanted them to enjoy a "happy weekend."
Even Professor McGonagall only assigned one practice assignment instead of a long essay.
But everything changed at lunchtime.
"Look! A new professor is here!" Dean said, pointing to a new face at the staff table.
"Where? Where? Is it for Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Fred and George looked in the direction Dean was pointing. "Merlin's beard—Cohen, look over there—"
"No, why are you asking me to look at a new professor? I'm not going to be—" Cohen was thinking about writing to Ginny's pen pal, who was a suspected bad guy, and looked up impatiently, annoyed at the interruption.
"Isn't that your dad?" Harry asked in surprise.
"I can tell, you don't have to remind me," Cohen's mouth twitched.
"Please allow me to briefly interrupt your lunch." Dumbledore stood up before the food appeared on their plates. "Due to the departure of Professor Umbridge, our Defence Against the Dark Arts class has been suspended for a short time. I am very pleased that Mr. Edward Norton has agreed to temporarily take on this role and continue to teach you Defence Against the Dark Arts..."
"Mr. Norton must not be from the Ministry," Harry said. "What do you think this means?"
"I think this means I don't have to do Defence Against the Dark Arts homework all term," said Cohen.